Yesterday was a bit of a mission. Heading off to Seoul for the World Assembly of DPI (Disabled Peoples’ International) meant the usual flight to Auckland, with a ‘just in time’ connection for my flight to Seoul. I asked for assistance to find my seat and said I needed assistance. This part is always a bit stressful. Will they give it in a way that is appropriate, not making me feel like some kind of total incompetent? The Korean people are gentle and courteous, and they never bully, unlike some.
All went well on the flight, albeit inconsistent. Things were identified on my tray, not really needed, but no direction to the emergency exit or assistance with the armrest controls – no one ever does that and it would be useful, or directions to the loo, not really needed for me but might be for other blindies or low visionaries.
On arrival though, it was a different story. I asked for assistance but there seemed to be no understanding at all so eventually I followed the last people off the plane and found my own way. Not too difficult it turned out but strange airports at the end of a long flight can be quite daunting, especially if they are crowded.
Despite promises there was no-one there to meet me. There was supposed to be an information desk, but it proved impossible to find. Finally after becoming distinctly hot and bothered, walking around a huge empty area with no visual clues I chanced upon an information desk with two young women, one of whom helped me find the desk, where they had no record of my arrival!
They did provide transport to the very comfy hotel where the room was fearsomely technological so by the time I worked out how to drive the lights and the shower it was pretty late and I was utterly had it.
A sense of deja vu also with the hotel getting my gender wrong, just like people used to in the UK in the seventies, and even worse my nationality, and yes you’ve guessed it, Australian.
